Game Over
by ce sont les petits choses
Summary: Was having the best of both worlds really worth it in the end? The story of shattered hearts and empty consciences, told in three parts. Dominique/Lysander/Roxanne.
1. Lysander

**A/N:** Hello! This is a story I wrote for the prompts thread over at NGF, with the prompts from 2 days mashed together: moral compass (daisy chains, waste, dance) and game over (realisation, build up, trick). I don't usually write these characters at all, so tell me what you think! Happy reading :)

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At first it's sort of fun stringing them both along – the best of both worlds, he used to say. Dominique is all smiles and swing sets and daisy chains in her flowing golden hair in the slight summer breeze at dawn, and Roxanne is all art and dancing with her expressive hazel eyes at dusk.

It started with a wink, it's all it took, and _Dominique half-French-quarter-veela Weasley_ was by his side in a millisecond. It took only a flash of his dazzling smile, and _Roxanne tan-skin-artistic Weasley_ was on his other side in a heartbeat. Neither one knew; the best of both worlds, he used to say.

He would never let on exactly what it was he was doing – after all, he was _Lysander charming-calculating Scamander_ with his mind-tricks and hypnotic eyes. So all summer long, he was playful at dawn with Dom but passionate at dusk with Rox. But somewhere along the lines, his thoughts got muddled and he was playful at dusk and passionate at dawn, and it just didn't work. He should've known that cousins talk things through. He didn't care – he had the best of both worlds, he used to brag.

He got less careful and one night, Lorcan, with his perfect relationship with sweet, innocent Lucy, asked him with an anger he'd never seen in his twin brother before, where his moral compass was, and he knew there was something wrong with him when he, the one with an answer and a plan for everything, didn't have an answer to the question and didn't have a plan anymore, either. He stopped seeing them for a while and let the slow realisation build up in his conscience (but when someone manages to corrupt two naïve, all-too-trusting girls at once, does the conscience really exist anymore?). He didn't brag that he had the best of both worlds any longer.

He should've seen it coming when veela-tempered Dominique shows up at his doorstep one day with a box in her hands full of everything he's given her and a slap to the face. Not two minutes later, he opens the door just to dodge the large scrapbook that's being thrown his way but doesn't manage to dodge the punch to the gut (and boy, does Roxanne punch _hard_). She doesn't punch nearly as hard as Teddy, or Fred, or James or even Albus though. (Let's not mention the hexes he received when _the girls_ caught wind of the crime he had committed.)

It started with a wink and a smile, and ended with two corrupted girls with tear-stained cheeks, and a lifetime of regret. And it's a waste, really, because _was having the best of both worlds really worth it in the end?_

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_**A/N: **Thank you for reading, and please leave a review! xx  
_


	2. Dominique

**Disclaimer: **The concept of the Wizarding World of Harry Potter belongs to Jo Rowling.

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_Every story has multiple sides. This is Dominique's. _

When she found out about what _he_ had done, she felt the angrier than she had ever felt in her entire life. This was worse than the time Louis told her father that she snuck out at night to see _him_, and definitely worse than when James and Fred pulled a prank on her that left them in fits of laughter on the ground, but had left her covered in dragon dung. Perhaps it was her veela temper getting to her but this type of anger was none that she had ever felt before – it was on the edge of belligerence.

She had trusted _him_ with all of her secrets, and he had given her reassuring smiles and countless cuddles telling her that it'd all be alright. She only now realised that he himself had never told her anything more than what was already known and she wishes she wasn't blinded by _his_ charm.

Maybe she's mad at herself more than _him_ and maybe she wishes she hadn't been so stupid, but in the grand scheme of things, she's furious and Dominique Weasley didn't _do_ furious – or at least she didn't used to. This was all so foreign to her, so she did what furious people do: let her irrational thoughts get the better of her. She cast a silencing charm on the walls of her bedroom and locked her door, and proceeded to tear her room apart, screaming and wailing at the top of her lungs (because while there was nothing better than a good cry to mend a broken heart, a heart torn apart by ruthless hands just can't seem to, no matter how hard you try). An hour and a half later, happy-go-lucky, innocent, naïve and dreamer Dominique Weasley became vulnerable, hurt, and just plain pissed off Dominique Weasley, and no one knew how to be around that.

Perhaps she was madder at the fact that she wanted to be so angry at _him_ so that she could act enraged for once so that others would understand just how she was feeling and to not mess with her like that again. But she's all smiles and swing sets and daisy chains in her flowing golden hair in the slight summer breeze at dawn; not tears and red hot anger and virulent thoughts that make her want to start crying and never stop (if she could get her tears to start falling, that is).

It wasn't until the next day when she was looking through all the things _he_ had given her throughout the summer and all the seemingly happy memories that went along with them that she found tears falling from the rims of her eyes and she was relieved, because she knows her heart is starting to stitch the pieces back together again.

Right then and there, she decided that she didn't need such horrid thoughts to infiltrate her mind anymore; for goodness' sake, she's Dominique Weasley, and she refuses to be a pessimist for more than a day. So she throws all of _Lysander's_ things into a box, including all of the things _Lysander_ had given her and the pictures they'd taken together. Just like that, all the memories that made her who she is right now are sitting in a cardboard box, taped up and ready to be returned to the one who gave her those once-happy feelings.

She apparates to _Lysander's_ flat and knocks on _Lysander's_ front door like a part of her wasn't scared to see him. When _Lysander_ opens the door, she almost feels bad for him because he looks like a disheveled black hole of despair. She reckons she looked like that for a while too (and maybe under all this makeup and bad acting, she still does now). So she thrusts the box into _Lysander's_ hands and as soon as her own hands are free, she reaches up and slaps him so hard her hand hurts. She turns away without looking back or feeling bad for inflicting pain on another person, because you can never pick up all the millions of shattered pieces of your heart and put it back together quite like it was before.

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**A/N: **Thank you for reading, please leave a review!


	3. Roxanne

**A/N:** Here it is, the last of the three-part story. (Songfic; song is Youth, by Daughter)

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They say every story has two sides, but not if Roxanne has any say in this. This is her story.

.

She's dealt with heartbreak before. She thought that she had finally found someone that would reconfirm the fact that there was such a thing called true love and maybe Dominique isn't as insane as she used to think, for believing in fairy tale princes and happy endings.

She hasn't seen Dominique since that day they discovered what Lysander had done to them both, but she reckons that Dominique is already over it – she's sickeningly optimistic like that. But she's not Dominique, and Roxanne is nothing if not expressive. She's a lover of the arts; so naturally, she feels everything more intensely than anyone else around her. Once upon a nicer time, she thought that Lysander was the same, but how could someone without a heart feel anything at all?

While Dominique was probably dealing with her version of heartbreak with a little stroll to the park, Roxanne pulls out a fresh sheet of lined paper (she was bollocks at writing straight) and her favourite fountain pen from Aunt Hermione and started writing her heart out.

_Shadows settle on the place, that you left.  
Our minds are troubled by the emptiness.  
Destroy the middle, it's a waste of time.  
From the perfect start to the finish line._

She writes and she writes and she pours her heart out while doing so; the more she writes, the angrier she gets. She thinks of all the happy memories they had – was it all an act? Had he done this before? If he put all the names of the girls he had successfully corrupted into a jar, how many names would there be? Dozens? Tens of dozens? Or just the two sad cousins? If she put the names of all the guys that had successfully broken her heart into thousands of shards so tiny that the only thing every step forward brought was pain, the jar would only know of his name.

_And if you're still bleeding, you're the lucky ones.  
'Cause most of our feelings, they are dead and they are gone.  
We're setting fire to our insides for fun.  
Collecting pictures from the flood that wrecked our home,  
It was a flood that wrecked this home._ _And you caused it._

How long had it taken her to recover (somewhat) from her last relationship? Entirely too long, that's for sure. How long until it takes her to recover from this… whatever it was? She doesn't think she can ever return to how she was before. What she thought was the love of a lifetime turned out to be the lie of the moment. And she hated that she had let him reduce her to tears that she swore she would never shed because of another person, claiming love. How many times had he said that she was the most artistic girl he had ever met, that her beauty and creativity were unparalleled? How many lies had she let him tell? And now, how many times would those words echo in her head before she finally broke down?

_Well I've lost it all, I'm just a silhouette,  
A lifeless face that you'll soon forget,  
My eyes are damp from the words you left,  
Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest.  
Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest._

She supposes that she'd get over him soon enough; after all, you fall seven times and get up eight times, right? She'll never forget him and she'll never forgive him, but Roxanne Weasley is an artist, and memories like these only make her stronger.

_And if you're in love, then you are the lucky one,  
'Cause most of us are bitter over someone.  
Setting fire to our insides for fun,  
To distract our hearts from ever missing them.  
But I'm forever missing him._

Shortly after Roxanne finished writing, she apparated to Lysander's flat where she was able to catch the eye of one Dominique Weasley apparating away with tear-stained cheeks not unlike her own, and an understanding was reached between them. Family is family, and family always sticks together. People like Lysander Scamander would never come near each other again.

.

It started with a wink and a smile, and ended with two stronger versions of the girls who once had tear-stained cheeks.

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**Thank you so much for reading, and please leave a review! And for those who have reviewed, you are wonderful and I really appreciate the time you took to leave a review. Thank you thank you thank you!**


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